Let's go home
by WinchesterRifle
Summary: A cute little story about America and England's past. You know, before the revolution.


**A/N: This is my first anime fanfiction. Review for more!**

** Caution: May contain happy England**

"Let's go home" As the man spoke, he held out his hand to the lost child. The boy laughed and placed his hand into England's. England smiled and led the boy to his house. _I'm just glad that he didn't choose to go with Frog-face or worse...Finland. _

"WOOwww" The boy said, pulling away from England's hand and running forward in awe. "You live here, Mister, sir?" America asked spinning enthusiastically around.

England laughed quietly to himself at the boy's enthusiasm. "Yes, I do and now you do too. I know you'll like it. You can have your own room and-" The boy had thrown himself onto England's leg, surprising him.

"Thank you" America spoke into the man's leg, muffling the sound. England smiled at the boy's gratitude. England squatted down to eye-contact with the boy. America let go of his leg and took a step back.

"You're welcome, America." England replied rubbing the boy's head.

England stood back up and grabbed the boy's hand. He then led him through the doorway.

"WOoooow" America repeated. "Which room is mine, Mister?"

"I'll tell you but I should get something start for you and I to eat." England walked through the kitchen doors, sure that America was following. "Now, what would you like?" He asked tying on his apron.

"I...uhh...I don't know"

"That's alright, America. I'll just make you my specialty, stew." England took America by the hand and led him up the stairs. He opened the door to show the boy.

The bed was large in the center of the room with a red comforter covering it. Two white pillows sat at the head of the bed. There was a large faded white chest at the foot of the bed. Inside the chest was an assortment of card games and chessboards. The United Kingdom flag was pinned just above the head of the bed. A large chair sat in the corner next to a small bookshelf. In the other corner sat a dresser full of an assortment of clothes ranging from large to small.

"WOoow This is all mine, mister, sir?"

England smiled. "Yes, America and just call me 'England' or 'Arthur' if you wish."

"Thank you, mister England, sir." America said attempting to jump onto the bed. England laughed at his attempts then proceeded to lift him onto the bed. America sat up with his feet dangling off the side.

"Are you tired?" England asked the young child. America responded only with a yawn. England walked around the bed to the dresser to look for something to put him to sleep in. He opened a bottom drawer to find a small night shirt. "This should fit" He set the night shirt next to the obviously tired child.

"Lift your arms, America" America lifted his arms above his head so England could pull off his dirty shirt. England then pulled the clean night shirt over the boy's head. Immediately the boy plopped over, asleep.

England smiled and picked up the small child. He placed America's head on the pillow and pulled the comforter over him. _I think I'm going to like this._

_~ ~ ~ An hour later ~ ~ ~_

England was now preparing the dinner he had promised America: stew. He had cut the potatoes and carrots. A pot of water was set on high -It only needed to be on low but England was hasty now because he feared America would wake up any moment, hungry.

The pot on the stove was boiling over, spilling onto the floor. England was frantically trying to mop up the water but came to the realization that the potatoes and carrots needed to be in the pot. He grabbed the vegetables and threw them into the pot. More boiling water poured out of the pan, burning his hand.

"BLOODY HELL-" England shoved his fist into his mouth to stop his cursing. He desperately hoped he hadn't woken up the child with his outburst. Nothing. He couldn't hear the child stirring upstairs. He sighed and ran cold water over his burned hand. "Bloody damn. This smarts" The man mumbled to himself.

England turned the stove top down to low but it was too late, the potatoes had turned into a vegetable mush at the bottom of the pot. It looked oatmeal but it smelled nothing like it. Luckily enough for England he had unknowingly saved it from burning and adding onto the disgust of his meal. England plopped the unseasoned potato-carrot mush into two bowls. One for him and one for America when he woke up.

He sat the plates on the dining table. He prepared tea for the both of them. Earl Grey for America because it tasted like fruit loops and for himself he made Orange Spice because it vaguely reminded him of his adventures as a pirate.

After the table had been set, England retreated to his sitting room to read his novel. He had begun reading _The Lord of The Rings: The Return of The King. _England flipped to the page that was clearly marked with a tassel. He put on his glasses making sure to rest them at the end of his nose to read more clearly.

Thirty minutes slowly passed and England was quite enjoying the silence of them all. **THUMP**_Thump_Thump The sounds continued until England could see America drag himself down the stairs. America continued to drag himself over to England then proceeded to tug on his trousers. England slide his tassel back into his book.

"England..." America said, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes?" England replied. "Did you have a nice nap?"

America said nothing but continued rubbing his eyes. Suddenly America's stomach growled, startling England.

"I suppose you're hungry." England said, standing up. England started walking to the dinner table and America followed closely behind. England pulled out a chair and America climbed on with difficulty. After America eventually climbed onto the chair, England pushed it closer to the table.

America grabbed the smallest spoon on the table and pulled the plate closer. He reluctantly scooped up a spoonful of the mush and examined it.

"Is this what real food looks like?" America asked smelling the food.

"Why yes it is, America" America put the spoon into his mouth.

The room was silent as America finished the mouthful of food. " I like it!" America exclaimed, breaking the silence.

The relieved England sat down across from America and tried it for himself.

America stood on his chair to look into his cup of tea.

"What is this, Mr. England?"

"Tea" England replied, sipping from his own cup. "I picked it out especially for you."

The boy put the cup to his lips and began to sip the tea. America stuck out his tongue in distaste.

"I don't like it, England." The boy admitted.

"Nonsense, America. It's just not sweet enough for you. A person not liking tea, how absurd!" England laughed dropping two sugar cubes into America's tea. He stirred the tea and handed it back to America.

"Try this". America put the cup to his lips again and took a sip. "Mmm" He mumbled into the cup. America put down his cup and grabbed his spoon. He gulped down spoonful after spoonful of vegetable mush. England sat down across from America and finished his tea. As America finished his food, England had already finished his own and was now carrying his dishes to the sink. America jumped off the chair and tottered off behind him, carrying his own dishes.

By the time England had finished washing the dishes, was getting dark outside. America and England were both growing tired. England walked with America up the stair to tuck him in. As soon as England opened the bedroom door, America ran in and jumped onto the bed. England lifted the comforter and America climbed underneath.

"England?"

"What is it, America?"

"Why did you let me stay here with you?"

"Well, since I met you in the field, Frog-face, Finland, and I couldn't leave you there. So it was either France or me you would have gone with. You chose me. So you came to my house." _Besides, what kind of English gentleman would I be to leave you with someone like France?_

America's eyelids fluttered shut. England stood up and turned off the light. He then proceeded to the sitting room. He sat down in his chair and opened to the marked page.

An hour had passed and England had fallen asleep with his book on his lap.

**A/N: Review for continuation. Suggestions are welcome. **


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